


How Long is a Year?

by pterosounds



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, soldier!laura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterosounds/pseuds/pterosounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been murmurs and speculation throughout Laura's squadron about who was getting deployed overseas next, and her name had been on several people's lips. So when she came home with weary eyes and slumped shoulders, you knew.<br/>(Soldier!Laura one shot. No character death.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Long is a Year?

There had been murmurs and speculation throughout Laura's squadron about who was getting deployed overseas next, and her name had been on several people's lips. So when she came home with weary eyes and slumped shoulders, you knew.

Before you could get up and wrap your arms around her, she was crying. You gently guided her down to the couch and tucked her head under your chin. All you could do was hold her. She eventually sat up with a sniffle and looked at you with blood-shot eyes.

“Where and for how long?” You asked.

“Somewhere in Iraq, I haven't read the orders yet.” She sighed and wiped a few tears from her cheeks. “And its for a year.”

Your chest tightened. “Well, that's not as bad as it could be.”

Laura smiled. “Not like you to be optimistic.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed her cheek. “It could have been Syria for three.”

She groaned and shook her head. “Don't jinx me. Some higher ranking officers have to. There, and the DRC”

Your heart dropped at the idea of he being stationed in the Congo at the heart of the chaos there. “Christ...” You muttered. “When do you ship out?”

Laura opened her uniform jacket and pulled a folded packet of paper out from the inner pocket. She unfolded it and you watched her eyes scan over it. “In a month. On the bright side, I have leave until then. So we can spend this month together.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you leaned forward to capture her lips in yours.

The month passed faster than you would have liked. The night before her deployment date, you held her tightly to your chest as you slept, but no matter how hard you held on, she still had to leave.

You drove to the airport, the car tense with unspoken words and unshed tears neither of you were sure you could handle. You walked with her until you couldn't go further without a boarding pass. Her hands shook as she showed her ticket to the worker, and as she turned to you, it was like a dam burst. She dropped her duffel bag and lunged for you, her arms around your neck and her chest heaving, yet somehow she wasn't making a sound. But then again, neither were you.

Grief does that to people.

“We'll Skype.” You croaked out, taking the initiative to pry her off of you. “Now go. Don't miss your flight or I'm never letting you leave this country.”

You gave her a chaste peck on the lips and waved her off.

-

How long is a year?

12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days.

Your birthday. Her birthday. Your anniversary.

Sure, Skype helped, but there were still nights where you laid in bed, clutching her pillow to your chest and trying to push out the images of Laura, your tiny Laura, suited up in combat gear and shooting assault rifles and ducking from explosions.

One call she answered sobbing, and she told you about how one of her friends lost a leg that day. Bile rose in your throat as you made yourself not think about that fact that it could have been her.

One call she didn't answer, and your anxiety took a hold of you.

She's been taken prisoner.

Oh god she's somewhere out there being tortured.

She's dead...

You throw up for the first time since you can remember and you don't go to sleep that night.

She answers the call the next day and explains how their power had gone out. You laugh it off and say that you were fine.

-

You made a stupid little sign like the ones you see on movies and the news, and put on an outfit of yours you knew she loved (black shorts, olive green top, and black knee socks) and got into the car. Your heart raced as you parked and your knees wobbled as you approached the gate. You took deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth as you watched the clock.

The familiar clomp of combat boots caught your attention and you perked up, your heart practically in your throat as a sea of camouflage poured from the terminal and down a flight of stairs. Your eyes scanned the soldiers for your girlfriend, but she spotted you first.

“Carm!” She shouted, causing some of the soldiers to look back at her. Around you families were being reunited but you couldn't bring yourself to care about anything more than the tiny, bright-eyed, fireball of a woman that you fell in love with.

She got to the bottom of the stairs and she found a part in the crowd. Before you could get over the shock of seeing her again and tell your legs to move, she was sprinting towards you, her duffel bag abandoned on the floor. She jumped, and with only a little bit of a stagger, you caught her.

You don't usually like public displays of affection, but a year is a long time to go without Laura. With her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms around your shoulders, she buried her face in your neck. You laughed softly.

“Hey cupcake.”

You could feel wetness bleed into your shirt, and knowing she was crying made your throat tighten. You told yourself you wouldn't cry.

“Hey.” She whispered.

She was home. She was safe. And you sure as hell were not letting this happen again.

On the drive home you asked her how much longer she had to serve before she could retire. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at carmunism.tumblr.com


End file.
